


Are You a Jealous God?

by paradox_n_bedrock



Series: we wear our traumas the way the guillotine wears gravity [4]
Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Church of Lilith, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Occult Content, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Religious Content, Truth Spells, not a threesome, this is easily my worst fic don't look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:58:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paradox_n_bedrock/pseuds/paradox_n_bedrock
Summary: But she’d been having dreams. Visions, really. Her own past, possible futures, images of the moon, waxing and waning and full with power. Whispered words in Greek coming to her on the night’s breeze.--Zelda calls upon a goddess and when it doesn't go to plan, Marie and Lilith are left to deal with the fallout.
Relationships: Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina) & Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, Marie LaFleur (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)/Zelda Spellman, Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith
Series: we wear our traumas the way the guillotine wears gravity [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663672
Comments: 18
Kudos: 54
Collections: Mambo Marie March





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Mambo Marie March Week 4: Magical Mishaps. I had mixed feelings about writing this, as if I'm ruining the soft ending of An Offering of Trust, but this has really been the 'verse I go to to exorcise my part 3 feelings and I'm in a very different place now. I am planning on going back and filling in installments that take place in the intervening weeks (at least one from Lilith's perspective and one involving Mary), but this might be the last one in the series chronologically. Or it'll end up an AU of my AU. Who knows. It also more explicitly addresses Zelda's abuse than I probably ever will again. I adapted the invocation to the Hecate from Queen of Hell by Mark Alan Smith.

Zelda strode deeper into the forest, ignoring the uneasy nausea rolling in her stomach. It had been weeks of Lilith lurking around the manor, the restored Queen of Hell seemingly there only to taunt her with their lack of progress on restoring the coven’s power.

But she’d been having dreams. Visions, really. Her own past, possible futures, images of the moon, waxing and waning and full with power. Whispered words in Greek coming to her on the night’s breeze. She hadn’t told a soul, not even Marie, who was becoming increasingly concerned after waking to an empty bed so many nights, finding Zelda in her study, or left entirely to research in the Academy library. Her sleepless nights had led her to one of several triple goddesses, a figure she’d previously thought to be simply another ancient and powerful witch. A witch they’d even called upon during the exorcism. She wasn’t sure what Hecate was, truly, but she was growing desperate enough that she no longer cared.

Though given a choice, she likely would have picked the Morrigan, a triple goddess -- or some such creature -- from their very own Scottish roots, fittingly dedicated to war and death and birth, as well as witchcraft, it was Hecate that seemed to have chosen her. 

And now she was deep in the forest, on her way to a clearing that would serve as a suitably secluded crossroads to ask for help. She was well aware of the irony of charging in alone on a hunch, after chastising Sabrina for the same on so many occasions. And worse, an unwelcome guilt kept rising up, nagging her with the thought that she was being disloyal to Lilith. If Marie could have her spirits and saints, could she not seek help from multiple sources?

Regardless, she continued her trek, gingerly cradling a small cheesecloth sack of food and bottle of homemade apple wine in one arm and holding out an oil lamp to light her path with the other, and tried not to dwell on the last time she had presented such an offering, lest her throat become too choked with anxiety to speak the words.

She was thankful for the mild weather as her hair was still damp from her purifying bath. Zelda couldn’t remember the last time she had left the house bare-faced and hair uncoiffed, but her time under the dark moon was limited and approaching the goddess unmasked seemed to be appropriate. 

Reaching the clearing, her shoulders relaxed the slightest bit. She scanned the clearing for a space, unsure what would be best, before making her way to a dirt patch near the center. Luckily, the earth was still soft from a recent rain as she hadn’t thought to bring a shovel and knelt, as heedless of it sinking into the fabric of her dress as she was of the trepidation slowing her movements. Setting down her burdens, she dug into the earth with shaking hands, carving out a bowl-sized depression.

She tried to clear her mind as she cast her circle, calling upon the four quarters with a few practiced gestures and words, taking note as the leaves rustled and a sprinkle of dew fell from the tree leaves. 

Zelda bent to untie the sack, revealing the goat cheese, dates, and a thankfully unbroken egg.

She’d avoided the fruit and herbs that had characterized her gift to Lilith, the recommendation of pomegranate dropping like a stone in her stomach, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Lilith would know, or even if this was a betrayal that would rip away her loaned magic, severing their fragile bond. 

Still, she popped the cork from the bottle and set the wine into the ground, hoping it would be a pleasing gift. Zelda shifted the rest of the bundle into the hole, laying out the items of Hecate’s Deipnon supper. She took note of the location, as any spent remnants of the offering would need to be collected and disposed of later. Resisting the urge to clear her throat, she began with a steady voice:

_“Queen of Darkness;  
Keeper of the Secret Keys;  
Hail to thee, Lady of all Witchkind;   
Hail to thee, Hecate;   
Hail to thee, Goddess of Transformation;   
Hear my prayer;   
Awaken within the glowing embers;   
Ignite thy dormant seed;   
I call you unto this, mine own flesh and form;   
Seeking knowledge and power;   
Grant unto me the vision of the Path;   
Clasp me to thy breast;   
Bestow upon me thy blessings;   
Open the way to the road of true witchcraft;   
Access for me the power of your realm;   
The secrets and knowledge of the dark ways;   
Upon the Path of Hecate. _

“Hecate, I beg of thee, return our powers. Free us of our ties to the Dark Lord,” she pleaded. There was nothing else for her to say, little personal connection to expand upon, but she tried to open her heart and sat meditating upon the qualities of the goddess, ignoring how they resembled another, until she knew her time was growing short. 

She felt no different, but neither had she sensed it when Lilith had gifted her in return. 

She stood, dispersing her circle and turning away, heart heavy at the thought that this might have been for nothing. She knew in the depths of her being that Lilith would be waiting for her upon her return to the Mortuary.

Striding away, as she crossed the clearing, refraining from looking back as the texts proscribed, she muttered, “What am I going to say to her? Gehenna, give me the courage...” And then it came, barely a warning of strange magic swirling on the breeze before it crashed through her, leaving her limbs tingling and unsteady.

She stumbled the mile back home, surprised she made it without collapsing, as the sensation solidified into something sticky and dark like tar. Her mind felt clouded as well, almost intoxicated. Sure enough, Lilith was waiting on the porch, managing to loom forebodingly in the darkness despite her small stature. Less predictably, Marie was with her, standing close and radiating concern.

“Marie,” she croaked pleadingly, tripping over her own feet, and the woman was at her side in an instant, just as her vision grayed out to nothing. 

She had the vague sensation of being half-carried, and when her awareness expanded once more, she was on the parlor sofa with Marie and Lilith exchanging quiet words nearby. “What has she done?” she heard Marie ask.

“Something stupid,” Lilith replied darkly. She pushed herself weakly up on one arm, catching their attention. Marie came to her, offering help she didn’t want to accept in front of Lilith. Zelda shoved her hands away, pushing herself to seated.

Then she registered the look on Marie’s face and was surprised by her own callousness to this woman she typically tried to be so careful with. She reached out, without thought, caressing her arm. “I’m sorry, Marie.”

Marie glanced at Lilith, taking in the ire in her expression, and back at Zelda in confusion. “Are you alright, _ma chérie?_ How are you feeling?”

She opened her mouth to respond dismissively and instead said, “Better, but not well. I… don’t feel right.” 

Horror began to dawn on her and it must have shown in her expression because it tore Lilith from her silent brooding. She rounded on Zelda. “What have you done? Did you think I wouldn’t feel it?” she snarled. Lilith was furious, but something else lurked beneath the surface. A hint of hurt in her eyes. More than that, it was a deep-seated grief that Zelda felt ashamed for putting there.

Marie bodily pushed herself between them before Zelda could do more than recoil, overwhelmed by a tide of emotion she wasn’t sure how to parse. She clutched at Marie, wary of Lilith’s reaction, but she only stared hard at the Vodouisant before turning away, crossing the room swiftly to stand behind an armchair, running a hand along its cushioned back with forced nonchalance.

Zelda answered despite herself, “I invoked Hecate for help. She’s been speaking to me for weeks, and I found sources that worship her as a goddess of witchcraft.”

“Oh, a goddess? Though you never would have called me such." Lilith paused, tilting her head with mocking inquiry. "Let me ask you, what makes a god? Celestial power? Omnipotence? What is this key ingredient that you witches _think_ others have that I lack?"

"Frankly I have no idea. Maybe it’s the ability to return our powers. Have you even made an attempt? Is it that you like to see me dangling desperately at your mercy?" 

“Is my magic not enough for you?” Lilith hissed, her short nails ripping into the upholstery of the chair with unnatural strength. Zelda felt even Marie twitch in reaction. But she stood, heedless of Lilith’s anger, scrambling to explain even as another part of her wanted to retreat, close off and never again gaze upon Lilith’s pained visage. 

“No, it’s not. It’s not enough for an entire coven of powerless witches! You said we could get them back. We said that we would figure this out and instead it’s been nothing but your excuses and avoidance, and I live in fear that you’ll tear what little you share with me away!” Her voice rose to a hoarse shout, containing weeks of muffled pain.

“What little I share? What _little?_ What exactly have you tried to cast that you’ve been unable? Just because you spend your days using it to light candles and cigarettes like a petty party trick doesn’t mean I’ve been denying you.” Zelda inhaled sharply, it was true, she’d cast such minuscule spells daily, sometimes multiple times, until it had become a near compulsive need to make sure she still could. She reached back for Marie, suddenly, desperately needing her support, but she was no longer there.

She turned to find the room empty apart from the two of them. Impulsively heading into the hall, she brushed past a sleepy and alarmed Ambrose to get to the kitchen, where she could hear the clink of drawers and cabinets. There she found her missing lover, pulling out glass containers of herbs with sharp movements. She softened when she saw Zelda, panicked and needy, stopping herself from setting down a mortar and pestle with too much force. “You’re angry?” Zelda asked, her voice coming out too small and too weak and hating the sound of it.

Marie took a deep breath, reaching for her hand with deliberate slowness, careful despite her frustration. "I cannot understand why you would turn elsewhere, when the one you've been serving is here under your roof, lending you her own essence. To approach another about the same matter seems quite an insult. But most of all, why did you not speak with me about it? I still would have helped you, if you thought this best." 

She saw Ambrose trail in then, out of the corner of her eye, followed by a much more sedate Lilith.

Zelda tried not to answer, clenching her hands into fists until her nails dug painful crescents into her palms, but the words were pulled from her nonetheless, “Because I’m afraid, constantly. It feels right to be tied to her, to have her magic within me, more right than anything I’ve felt besides the touch of your hand, but being beholden to another is no longer something I can abide.” She brought a hand to cover her face, hiding her embarrassment.

“Uh, Auntie?” Ambrose questioned hesitantly. “Are you-”

“Do not ask me if I’m alright!”

“It would be best if you went back to bed, Ambrose,” suggested Marie. 

He looked at his aunt for confirmation. “Do you want me to fetch Aunt Hilda?”

“Absolutely not,” Zelda snapped. “And head Sabrina off, if she tries to come down. The fewer people that witness this, the better.”

“Okay, well, then, I’ll leave you to… whatever is going on here.” Taking her silence as assent, he edged past Lilith out of the room.

Lilith crossed the kitchen, nudging Marie towards Zelda and taking over at the counter, assessing the ingredients Marie had assembled and beginning to prepare them.

Marie sighed, sitting wearily in a chair. “You’ve been cursed with truth, then?”

“I sure as heaven wouldn’t be saying these things otherwise,” she responded bitterly.

“A little compulsion towards honesty, slightly lowered inhibitions, it can all really blend together when you're playing about with magic you don’t understand. But is it really a curse, if she requested it?” Lilith added from the other side of the kitchen.

“This is _not_ what I asked for.” Zelda insisted.

“If you’d spent more time looking into the contract you signed than pursuing other avenues, perhaps your family wouldn’t be going without.”

“I’ve looked. I’ve poured over it, made multiple translations. I did nothing but agonize over that bloody book day and night… and still, nothing. The devil’s not a poor lawyer.”

“No, he’s not. But you are, apparently. Did you think Hecate would look kindly upon your defection?” she asked derisively.

Zelda scoffed, but it came out a wet and strangled sound. “I thought she came to me. Do you plan to be a jealous god, then? Monotheists only need apply?”

Lilith glowered at her intently, then flicked her eyes over to Marie. "Worship the blessed Catholic saints for all I care. Just remember who you turned to when you needed help the most. Remember what I gave of myself, while you're on your knees for your new goddess." 

Zelda shifted uncomfortably, rising to rustle through a kitchen drawer, looking for a lighter she knew had been discarded there. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, finding it and realizing she didn’t even have her cigarettes. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew it would, but that didn’t stop me.”

“Hardly a new concept,” Lilith replied quietly. “But what a lovely apology. Just tell me why. What have I done to turn you away from me?”

“It’s not you,” she said, voice breaking. “It’s Faustus. The memory of him haunts me still. Your power was a welcome balm, but to not have my own is unconscionable. I cannot- I _cannot_ be in such a position again. What happens when you need something I’m unwilling to give?” Zelda clutched at the counter as words tumbled out terribly unrestrained. “I was just as trapped serving him, simpering at his every word, as I was when he forced himself-” she choked on the sentence, another thought taking over before that one finished. “He didn’t even need to hold me down, I was as eager for that as every other humiliation heaped upon me, but inside - ”

Lilith was gone, frozen as a statue and eyes distant, in a tableau that had become all too recognizable over the past weeks. Whether she could have helped with her herbal concoction or not, she was in no state to do so now. For once Zelda wasn’t the least bit curious as to where she had disappeared within herself and was endlessly grateful that the question wouldn't be slipping out of her mouth.

Marie slipped an arm around her shoulders, shushing her uselessly and hustling her out of the kitchen. She helped her up the stairs, to the room they had been sharing only hours earlier. “Get ready for bed, if you can. I’ll be back soon.”

Marie did return only a few minutes later, finding her sitting just where she had left her. Marie opened a drawer and found a nightgown before coming to Zelda. “Come on, let’s get you changed. We’ll fix this in the morning. May I?” she asked, gesturing to the buttons along Zelda’s dress.

“Please.” She was able to help after a moment, starting at the bottom while Marie started at the top. Marie stripped her of the dress, almost businesslike in her manner. But when she turned to grab the nightgown, Zelda stopped her with a hand curled around the back of her neck. She pulled Marie in for a kiss she knew reeked of desperation, moved Marie’s hands to her body and tried to lose herself in it, but sure enough, within moments Marie was pushing her away.

“Zelda…”

“I need you,” she all but whimpered.

“You have me, but I cannot do that,” Marie said firmly. “Not when you are under this spell.”

She cried fully then, collapsing against Marie. “He hurt me, Marie. He hurt me so badly.”

“I know, _ma chérie. Je suis tellement désolée_ ,” she murmured, holding Zelda with strong arms.

“Stay with me?” she pleaded.

“I’m here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Je suis tellement désolée. - I'm so sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been torturing myself over this one. Bad news: the major Marie scene just did not fit. She has her significant moment, but this is overwhelmingly Zelith tension. Good news: the planned scene really deserves to be its own fic, so you'll still get to see it, and probably in a dedicated Zarie fic.
> 
> ALSO. I have a version where the goddess Zelda appeals to is The Morrigan, for various reasons. Hit me up on tumblr if you really want to see it.

Zelda woke slowly, foggily wondering how much she’d had to drink the previous night but otherwise forgetting that this was different than any other sweet morning with Marie in her bed. When it was only cool sheets within her reach, memories of her self-inflicted predicament rose abruptly to the forefront of her mind.

She groaned, rolling over, casting an arm over her eyes as though it could keep her from facing the day.

“Sleeping beauty wakes.”

She jerked, startled, Lilith’s sarcastic drawl at her bedside being the last thing she expected. She was sprawled in a chair near the head of the bed, seemingly waiting for Zelda to join the living. It was perhaps the only time in history that her bedroom curtains had been thrown wide open and she was basking in the gentle sun filtering in through the window. There was something otherworldly about Lilith in the light of a late summer morning. It wasn’t as though she’d never seen her in the day, but rather never took the time to dwell on the sight. Zelda would have expected her to look out of place, as Zelda herself often felt, but instead, she looked so fiercely at home that Zelda could see her lounging in a lush garden, free of burden. Perhaps it wasn’t an otherworldly quality at all, perhaps it was exactly that she looked so earthly, exactly as human as she had once been. _Was still? Where falls the line between demon and human? Between witch and goddess?_

Her left hand was curled around the wooden arm of the chair and so close to the bed. Zelda couldn't help it, she reached out to trace the delicate veins mapping the back of her hand. Lilith allowed it, outwardly unmoved aside from a minute twitch of surprise, making Zelda blink hard against the threat of imminent tears. She vividly remembered holding her hand on the night Lilith had come to her for asylum and feeling like she was cradling Lilith’s very heart in her palm.

It had been a revealing preview of just how little defense Lilith had against affection. And, in retrospect, the cementing moment of a paradigm shift where Lilith wormed her way inside as someone to be protected rather than someone she hoped would provide protection. She felt suffocated by the realization that she had, in return, placed herself back outside Lilith’s carefully maintained walls. 

Lilith pulled her from her thoughts, rolling her eyes at the prolonged silence. ”Tell me, if I haven’t wronged you, what is it that makes me so fundamentally unworthy of your faith?” 

_‘When will I be worthy?’_ echoed in her mind, pouring out from years in the past. When would she have been worthy of the Dark Lord, of the High Priest, of her family’s love? Zelda turned her face into the pillow, resigned to the conversation. There was no Marie here to save her, no children running rampant as a distraction, and most of all, no ability for her to dissemble or save face. Even if she could walk away, the small, oft squashed part of her that lived on hope, that wanted to be seen, the part that Marie nurtured and drew out with shocking ease, had her remaining in place to continue to bare her soul to someone who might destroy her with the knowledge. 

“No, Lilith, I’ve wanted my whole life to be deserving of my divinity’s attention. That impulse isn't so easily quashed. But I hardly need to tell you what a cruel master the Dark Lord turned out to be. And now I... have you. And I’m the one who’s still not worthy. Do you think my involvement with Marie has changed me so radically? I’m still a wreck. And a coward.”

“No,” Lilith scoffed. “Don’t make this about your self-indulgent self-loathing. If you want to trust me, then _do it.”_

“As if it’s so simple. You’re saying you’ll never be tempted? That there’s nothing that could incite you to those depths?”

“If this hasn’t, what could?” she quipped sarcastically. Their eyes met and the memory of a true betrayal Zelda had very nearly committed hung heavy in the air. Even then Lilith hadn’t harmed her or the coven.

“I can’t imagine. I apologize for my actions last night, truly.”

“Remorse is a trivial notion.”

“Then let me tell you I want to be better for you. This isn’t what I want for us.”

“Oh? Then what is it you do want for us?” Lilith shook her head sharply. “ _Don’t_ answer that. I can’t make you meaningless promises. But do you forget so quickly the circumstances that brought me to your door? That I know what it’s like to not have that sovereignty?” As she stood, she slid her hand away from where Zelda’s fingers had curled around it. “Once upon a time, you loved my story. When it was one about rebellion and independence, a woman’s refusal to bend to man or god. You were so passionate, so…” Lilith hummed, low and rolling and Zelda’s skin prickled with it. “And then after you learned what became of me, you nevertheless swore to be my ‘most faithful disciple’? Such a stringent sentiment. Whatever happened to it?” 

Zelda sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, needing to feel even a minuscule amount more in control, though it was a trade-off that left her exposed in her insubstantial nightgown. “Did I not make myself clear during that abominable scene last night? Must we go round and round on this? I’m scared, Lilith. I’m terrified of the power you have over me, both magically and... emotionally. I had no idea, all those weeks ago, that you- that the Queen of Hell would become this kind of fixture in my life. It was so easy when you were more of a figure than a person. And then you were more- more-” She pressed her lips into a thin line and then had to try again. “In leaps and increments, you revealed yourself to be more than I ever imagined.” 

“Of all the notions.” Lilith didn’t seem mocking, only thoroughly discomfited, shifting where she stood. “I’m not trying to be _a person_ to you. I’ve been an infernal creature since before the world dreamed of your ancestors. I’ve birthed monsters and devoured mere _people_ for millennia. A person. The temerity of you.”

Zelda sighed. “It’s too late, Lilith. I know too much to dismiss you as inhuman, no matter how glorious and unholy.”

“You don’t know what I am. You can’t possibly.” Lilith rubbed at her chest with a flat hand, along the neckline of her dress. Seeing her so affected made Zelda yearn to take her apart. To peel back her defenses and let their pain spill together. To use it to build up the foundations of their church, though she knew it would be a tide that swept them both away, rather than anything capable of shoring them together.

“I know that you care more than you’d ever like to admit. About the state of hell, about the atrocities you’ve suffered, about being worshiped. It’s a very human trait, but the church is not the only way to get what you want. I could worship you in the ways you’ve only dreamed of.” She tried to put a seductive edge on the statement, but it still came out all too earnest.

Lilith recoiled, something fragile and tremulous about the motion. “You can’t even stay true as my High Priestess. What makes you think I want more from you than that?” She continued to retreat, not striding out of the room or disappearing in a plume of hellfire as she so frequently did, but backing into the shadows and out of the world as Zelda watched despite the disconcerting tug behind her breastbone.

"Frankly, I haven't the slightest," Zelda whispered into the room. She rose and went through the motions of readying herself for the day, dressing mechanically, trying to piece herself back together behind rows of buttons.

She went downstairs. She made her coffee and sat at the kitchen table to drink it, though it tasted of ash in her mouth, the whole while feeling just as hollowed out as the previous night.

She had no concept of how long it was before Marie appeared. Zelda pulled herself together enough to stand and turn to her, though her chest already seized with panic over what she would say. Zelda could already tell she hadn’t found an answer.

Marie saw the poorly hidden devastation on her face but didn't ask, comforting her with a sweet touch and blissful silence. It was that, more than anything, that made it slip out on a breath. Zelda thought it shouldn't have come so easily. That phrase never had in her life.

“I’m in love with you,” she said plainly. It was all too much, on the back of her conversation with Lilith. The words echoed horribly in her ears and she saw her own destruction at Marie’s hands more clearly than she saw the woman’s face. She was out of the room and crashing out the backdoor before Marie could do so much as gasp. She darted down the stairs, landing in a pile in the long grass.

She sobbed, growing snotty and red, hands digging into the grass as though it could ground her. And then Lilith was there, in front of her, scratched and bloody, a wicked vision of dishevelment. She wondered absently if the woman had been in hell or in the woods as the debris in her wild hair seemed to indicate. Zelda hunched and tried to hide her face but Lilith bent, cupping her chin in one hand, and kissed her, a mere press of lips against hers, a benediction, and the compulsion was gone, floating away on the breeze.

She reached out, flailing just a little before she grasped her hands, pulling Lilith back in. Lilith met her halfway with another kiss and magic burst through her, setting her alight and her muscles twitching with power. Her own magic, settling deep within her like a long-awaited homecoming, as sweetly familiar as cigarette smoke.

She stared up at her, awed, backlit by the afternoon sun, and saw that Lilith looked just as stunned. She noticed the blood then, smearing Lilith's thin mouth as much as her crimson lipstick. Her hand came up to her lips almost of its own volition. “It was always within your power, wasn’t it?”

Zelda swallowed hard. She wanted to tug her down into the grass. She wanted to kiss her again. She wanted to scream at her for not knowing her own strength. Some part of her even wanted to apologize again for the doubt that had plagued her.

Then she felt Marie behind her. She stiffened, her stomach dropping. She rose to her feet, clumsier than she would have liked, but didn’t turn. If she was about to lose her most steadfast support, she wouldn’t let Marie see it break her. Zelda shut her eyes, dropping Lilith’s hands, waiting to hear Marie’s footsteps leaving. _Please_ , her lips formed the word, though she knew sound would no longer come.

Instead, she felt Marie’s strong hand curl around her elbow, steadying her. Her eyes flew open and she looked at the other woman, finding only concern in her expression. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lilith gliding back to the house at a brisk pace, then Marie’s other hand came up to wipe away her tears. “You’re not...”

“Upset that Lilith was able to help? Why would I be? _"_

“You know it was more than that.”

“Just making sure that you do, as well,” Marie said, a little slyly.

“And you accept that?” She shook her head, dumbfounded. “But you’re Catholic.”

Marie smiled at her, as tenderly as always, and her heart responded with its typical flutter, though a painful one, still unused to such a response. “Ah, _ma chérie_ _,_ you should know life is more complicated than that. The church condemns my love, condemns Vodou entirely. This is not what I pictured when I was called to come here, but you are what I’ve found. How can I be unhappy with that?”

Zelda looked down at herself, finding grass stains on her knees and a blouse damp with tears. She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to understand. “Marie, I’m not… You deserve someone kind and whole,” she bit out, ending on a whisper. “Someone who can give you everything.”

“Zelda, what makes you think I have to have everything? I am very much my own person, as are you. I want only what we can share with each other.”

“I don’t understand you, sometimes.”

“It doesn’t mean our connection is any less powerful. And Lilith is… something special, I am not blind to that.”

“And I forsook her. For Mephistopheles knows what kind of creature.”

“Hecate got you what you asked for, _n’est-ce pas?_ Maybe not in the manner you were hoping for, but much worse things have happened, when people have called upon higher powers that are not theirs.”

Zelda crossed her arms across her stomach protectively. Whether Hecate was witch or goddess, it was Lilith that had restored her powers, despite her demonstrated lack of faith.

And it was Marie who had cared for her at her most vulnerable. “It’s no matter. I should have known better. I did know better.” She swallowed again, steeling herself and looking into Marie’s deep brown eyes. “I meant it, you know? I do...”

“I know. _Mais je sais tu ne sois pas encore prêts."_

She loosed her arms, stepping close to Marie and burying herself in the woman’s embrace. Tucking her face against Marie’s neck, she breathed deep, taking in the faded remnants of her perfume and the comfort of her skin, uncaring of the other inhabitants of the mortuary spilling out to witness them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mais je sais tu ne sois pas encore prêts. - But I know you are not ready yet.


End file.
